The drive to Émilie’s took about five minutes, but Melinda thought it was closer to fifteen hundred years - or at least it felt like it.
The only thing she could think of was Émilie crying all alone in the darkness, and that made her feel bad. It was like a pressure, a heavy weight, was placed on her heart. It was difficult to breathe, and her eyes felt dry and hot and they hurt. She had to swallow a couple of times really hard to be able to concentrate on driving.
She parked the car and practically flew out of it and to the stairs - elevators be damned. It would’ve taken too long to wait.
She was standing at Émilie’s door and panting hard in ten minutes flat, a trip that should’ve taken fifteen to twenty.
She knocked on the door. "Emi, it’s me, Melinda," she called. Images of Émilie sitting on her couch in the darkness, crying, swarmed her mind. She knocked again. "Emi, open up, I’m here to help," she said.
After what felt like a couple of hours but was, in actuality about half a minute, the door opened.
Émilie looked awful; her eyes and face were red and puffy, her makeup was running down her cheeks. She had just pulled a shawl over her head and shoulders and was still in her pajamas underneath.
"M—Mel?" she stuttered quietly. "You… you… didn’t… have to—," she said, sobbing, and Melinda pulled her into a tight hug. She wrapped her hands around the shorter blonde’s shoulders and squeezed her hard against herself.
"Shh.. It’s going to be alright," Melinda said. She put her hand behind Émilie’s head and pressed her gently against her. "You’re not alone anymore, Emi," she said. "I will be here as long as you want, or we can go to my place. We can order pizza and stay awake the whole night, if it helps you, Emi," she said. She stroked the back of Emi’s head gently and leaned her own head against hers.
Émilie’s body shivered slightly, then Melinda felt her sobbing quietly against her shoulder. She caressed her hair without saying anything. She felt her own eyes well up.
I hate it when you cry, Emi; she thought. I hate it so much when you feel bad. My heart hurts when I see you hurting, my heart soars when I hear you laughing. And my heart… and my heart feels… right when I can hold you like this.
"Would you like to spend the night at my place?" Melinda asked Émilie, still holding her and gently stroking her hair.
Émilie pulled her hands to her chest, grabbed Melinda’s shirt and just nodded.
"Mm-hmm," she muttered almost inaudibly, "yes."
"I’m going to let go of you with my other hand, Emi," she said. "I’m just gonna grab your coat and your bag. I will not let go of you with my other, don’t worry," she said and reached for Émilie’s jacket and her bag that were on the floor.
She grabbed those and moved her shoes with her foot to Émilie’s side. She was trying to get the jacket onto her shoulders.
"Put on your shoes, Emi. I’ll lead you to the car and then we can leave. But you need to put on your shoes; it’s cold and wet outside. You’re going to get sick if you don’t put on shoes," she said.
Émilie put on her shoes and followed Melinda out like a robot.
Melinda packed her in her car like a doll, sat beside her and took her hand in hers. "Emi," she said, "I need to drive now, so I’ll let go of you for a while. But I’m right here, I won’t go away."
Émilie looked at her like a sad, beaten puppy and scooted closer in her seat so she could just lightly touch her leg with her hand.
Émilie’s hand on Melinda’s thigh sent shivers all around Melinda’s body. She almost bit her lip in order to stay cool and not scare her by yelping. She placed her hand on top of Émilie’s on her leg. Her hand was so soft and warm, Melinda’s heart did a double-jump and she had to get a grip of herself.
"If it helps you, Emi," she said, "just keep your hand here, the whole way. I promise you I won’t leave you alone," she added.
"Why…" Émilie asked quietly. "Why are you so nice to me? I mean, yeah… we’re friends, but… Still—" she said, and Melinda shook her head.
"Don’t worry about it, Emi," she said. "I would do a lot more for you. You’re an important person to me," she said. "More than—" she said and caught herself. "Never mind," she added, "Just… You’re important to me. You are no bother to me, Emi. Let’s go," she said, and started the car.
All the way to Melinda’s place, Émilie held her hand on Melinda’s leg and neither of them spoke a word.
Melinda drove in silence and kept glancing at Émilie while she stared out of the windows. Why do I feel like this? she wondered. Why does my heart keep beating so hard when I look at her sad face? Why do I keep wishing I could just hold her close to me? Why am I so angry at Evans? I mean, of course, she did a shitty thing, but… this much? And why… why do I keep thinking ‘I could do better’… that if it was me, I’d never cheat on her…
Melinda parked her car next to her place, went around the car and opened the door.
Émilie practically fell into her arms from the seat. "Mel, I…," she sobbed. "I’m so broken, Mel… Nobody will ever want me again and I’ll die alone, som—" she said, but was interrupted as Melinda cupped her face with her hands, leaned closer, and pressed a kiss on her surprised lips.
Émilie’s eyes flew open and she let out a muffled yelp from between her lips.
Melinda’s lips were so soft, so warm, so… her heart almost leaped out of her mouth.
As soon as it started, the kiss was over and Melinda opened her eyes. Her warmth lingered on Émilie’s lips and her heart thumped inside her chest like it was trying to break free and start a drum school.
"I’m sorry!" Melinda said and took a step back. "I don’t know.. I don’t know why I did that! I just… you’re not a failure, Emi! You’re so good! You’re nice, and intelligent, and funny, and kind, and cute, and you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen—" she said, and then her brain caught up with what she was doing.
She slapped her hand to her mouth and flushed bright red all over her face.
Émilie stood there, looking at her with her lips slightly parted, her eyes wide and a blush creeping to her cheeks slowly, but surely. She took a step forward and hesitantly lifted her hand and touched Melinda’s arm.
"Mel…", she whispered, her voice slightly quivering. "Mel, I’m sorry, I…" she said and turned away, her ears burning and her cheeks red as a tomato. She heard Melinda take a deep breath and then let it out.
"Emi…", she said. "Let’s go in. I’m sorry I did that. I shouldn’t have done it, and I don’t know why I did it. It’s like my body acted without thinking, and before I knew what I was doing, I…" she said, and took a deep breath again.
"Let’s just go in. I promise I won’t do that again," she said. She reached out and touched Émilie’s arm slightly.
She turned around and looked at Melinda, straight into her eyes. Both of their cheeks were almost glowing red.
Émilie’s lips were partially open, and she glanced from Melinda’s eyes to her lips. She swallowed.
A loud noise startled the two, and they almost screamed as someone was leaning on their car’s horn.
"Get a fucking room, you freak kids!" a male voice shouted. "Get away from the public, you fucking perverts!" he yelled and stepped on the gas pedal and speeded past them, almost running them over.
The girls ran inside and into Melinda’s apartment without saying another word.
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